


The Boy King.

by cutenewt



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-15
Updated: 2017-01-22
Packaged: 2018-09-17 16:18:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9333086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cutenewt/pseuds/cutenewt
Summary: What if for some strange reason, Mary Winchester had slept through her son’s cries that dreadful night, in November? What if Sam went off to college, leaving behind his parents and big brother, only to soon turn 23… and, see his true path lay out for him.





	1. Chapter 1

 

____

 

**_January 5th, 2006.  
7.30a.m._ **

 

  
“Knock ‘em dead.” Jessica plants a soft kiss against her boyfriend’s cheek, as he leans into her touch.

 

She smiles, and straightens up his tie. “What if they sent the wrong acceptance letter? I mean, a law student… at Stanford. I don't know if they got my name right,” Sam grits his teeth, nervously scratching at the back of his neck.

 

“You, Sam Winchester, will be the best law student ever.” Jess smirks, using his tie to pull him towards her lips.

 

He smiles into the kiss, feeling thankful for his girlfriend. “What would I do without you?” He sighs, gently cupping her jaw.

 

“Crash and burn,” the girl laughs, giving him one last peck on the lips before pulling away. “You need to go!” She ushers him towards the bedroom door, handing him his bag.

 

“Is there cookies in there?” Sam’s eyes light up with hope towards his girlfriend, who laughs once again.

 

“Just wait and see.”

 

____

 

**_Sunday, May 9th, 2006.  
2.30p.m._ **

 

  
Dim sunlight shines through the curtains of Jessica’s student bedroom, and tiny dust particles float against the beams. Light footsteps interrupt the peacefulness, and the creak of the bedroom door distracts Sam’s train of thought.

 

“Are you sure you're alright?” Jess’ timid tone sounds by the door, and Sam carefully turns his head.

 

“I'm fine. It's probably just the after effects of my birthday weekend,” a weak grin crosses his washed out features.

 

Jess sighs, her bare feet padding along the carpeted floor. She parks herself at the end of the bed, and gently entwines their fingers together. It's been eight days since she organised a huge birthday bash for his 23rd, and for the past two days Sam’s been bedridden with a migraine.

 

It's weird, because she's never known him to suffer from them. To be truthful, Sam is also worried. It's as if his brain has switched gears, like… turning twenty three is supposed to mean something. He can't quite put his finger on the unknown sixth sense that he's getting, but it just doesn't feel right.

 

“I’ll just sleep it off. I have a class tomorrow.” His head hits the pillow, and tired eyelids push closed.

 

Jess leans forwards, kissing his forehead. “Call me if you need anything,” she whispers tenderly, but Sam can't hear her, he's already fast asleep.

 

____

 

**_Friday, 5th August.  
1.51p.m._ **

 

  
Sam taps his pencil back and forth against the worn out wooden desk. His eyes bore into the chalk board so strongly, that he feels as if he's already burnt a hole into it. The ticking of the wall clock echoes in and out of each ear, and the scribbling of pencils makes him want to shudder.

 

Students scramble to finish their tests, but Sam stays calm. He knew they were going to be surprised with a test today, and he knew exactly what to read up on before this lesson. This is the third time he's known about something like this – the first time he put it down to pure coincidence, but the second time he decided to actually humour himself, and try to act upon it… causing him to gain extra credit in his lecture club.

 

So, after having another faded out dream of a test in his law class, Sam decided to take a long visit to the library. When he has these dreams, he's unsure of when they're going to come true. But, this is the third time that they’ve proceeded to do exactly that. He hasn't told anyone, because they'd deem him simply insane.

 

Sam puts his pencil down, earning a glare from someone to his right, as his pencil tapping clearly wasn't pleasing them all too much. He sighs, balling up his fists to rub his tired eyes. As his tensed up knuckles meet his closed eyelids, a sudden dash of intense pain dances across his forehead. He grits his teeth, stopping himself from audibly crying out from the sudden stabbing sensation.

 

Breathing in sharply through his nose, Sam dares to open his eyes. Instead of being greeted by the familiar scene of the dusty chalkboard, there's a completely different set of surroundings in front of him. They're too out of focus to properly pinpoint, but he seems to be on a road… there's somebody standing in the middle of it, and it's too dark to see. Headlights blind Sam, only adding to the rush of pain behind his eyes.

 

The car doesn't stop, and Sam tries to yell out… but, they can't hear him. “Samuel?” Someone is calling back to him, and the darkness starts to grow more intense, until… a sudden surge of light pierces the whole of his surroundings, and his eyes settle into a recognisable shade of dull grey.

 

_It's his Professor._

 

“Sam?” He yells out again, and Sam blinks hard. He looks around, realising that he's now sitting on the floor of his lecture room. His chair is overturned behind him, and every single pair of eyes around the room are currently glued to his crunched over figure.

 

His immediate instinct is to try and get to his feet, but his teacher promptly pulls him back down again. “I'm going to help you to the nurse. Class, dismissed!” The strong voice causes Sam to flinch in pain, the volume of it physically paining him inside.

 

Everything around him is still spinning, and the ringing in his ears makes it hard to determine which sounds are which. He feels his feet moving against the linen below him, but his head doesn't feel like it's contributing to the action. The next thing he knows is that he's sat on a bed, and his legs are dangling below him.

 

As if a huge wave of clarity has just been shoved over him, Sam suddenly feels like he's back in the room again. He shakes his head, rubbing his eyes and then blinking before he tries to establish his surroundings this time. “I'm in the nurse’s office,” he reassures himself quietly, looking down at his sneakers.

 

“That you are, Mr. Winchester. You had quite a nasty blackout back in class, didn't you?” A strict, feminine tone makes him jump, and all of a sudden the college nurse is standing right before his eyes.

 

He tilts his head to one side, squinting as if to silently try and figure out if she's real or not. The feeling of her poking a thermometer into his mouth proved that she is indeed real, and Sam frowns. “I'm fine,” he mumbles, rolling his eyes when she proceeds to check his blood pressure.

 

“Samuel, a blackout does not mean that you are fine.”

 

“It's Sam.” He grimaces, mumbling again until she finally takes the thermometer out from being uncomfortably placed between his lips.

 

She examines the glass tube, and hums to herself. Her eyes then narrow at the blood pressure machine, and finally she takes his pulse. “Your blood pressure was slightly raised, but… that's it.” It's as if her tone carries a small hint of disappointment, like she didn't want Sam to be right about the fact that he is, indeed fine.

 

A minor smirk washes over him, and he jumps down from the bed. “So, can I leave?” He asks impatiently, tapping his foot against the whitewashed floor.

 

Her eyes look like they're trying extremely hard not to roll into the back of her head. “Yes, but take a leave from classes today. Come back if anything else happens!” She calls out, but Sam’s already gone.

____

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

____

 

_**Saturday, August 6th.** _   
_**1.32a.m.** _

 

  
“They'll all come true. They'll all die. If you don't listen.”

 

Echoing. The words, these words, won't stop running around Sam’s brain. He tosses and turns in the bed, bumping into Jess who can't sleep anyway. He can't hear her calling out to him, trying to calm. He tries to shut his eyes, block out the nearing shadowy figure. When he finally gets close enough for Sam to see his face, his mouth opens in order to speak.

 

“You will rise to be my King,” the words fall from of his tongue in such a menacing way, that Sam feels a shiver trickle down his spine.

 

Then finally, his eyes look directly into Sam’s. And, they're bright yellow.

 

Sam bolts upright in the bed, panting heavily. His skin glistens with sweat, his cheeks streaked with salty liquid. He flinches extra fast, feeling someone gingerly touch his shoulder. “Sam, it's okay,” Jess’ voice instantly sends a soothing wave of calmness over him.

 

He feels his breathing growing less shaky, as he leans into her touch. “I – I,” Sam stammers, unable to comprehend what just happened. He stops himself from talking, and just lets her rub comforting circles against the back of his pyjama shirt.

 

“It's alright. I'm going to get you a glass of water now, okay?” Her voice slowly trails away, as she leaves the room.

 

Sam rubs his eyes, and tries to focus on the situation at hand. He spots the TV remote resting upon the bedside table, and switches on their small television. The news is playing, and there seems to be a new top story. “A student from Stanford was killed in a hit and run accident today, after stumbling drunkenly onto highway 67.”

 

“No… I'm not crazy, I'm not crazy.” Sam hugs his knees closely to his chest, resting his chin on the top of them.

 

He gently rocks his body back and forth, screwing his eyes shut. Without looking he turns off the TV, and tosses the remote to the floor. “No, please…” Sam’s whispers fade away, as he feels himself growing dizzy. His head hits the mattress, and everything turns a shade of jet black.

 

____

 

**_Monday, August 8th.  
9.17a.m._ **

 

  
Even the damn clock ticking is hurting his head. The scratching of pencils, people chatting, scraping chairs… each tiny noise just adds to the growing intensity of the headache. This morning as soon as he stepped a foot out of bed, a pair of yellow eyes appeared before him. He feels like he's going insane, but he isn't going to tell anyone.

 

He's going to be fine.

 

The lesson drags longer than usual. Sam collects up his books, and slides them off of the desk into his bag. He speed walks out of the classroom, accidentally shoving into a few of his peers. He sighs a long, heavy sigh of relief once his dorm building comes into sight.

 

Jess is going to be inside, so he needs to compose himself before entering. As he stumbles up the steps, a small dizzy spell causes him to fall into the wall. What is happening to him? Pinching the bridge of his nose to try and ease away some of the pain, Sam walks through the door.

 

“Hey,” he fakes a smile, spotting Jess sitting on the couch.

 

She stands up, an immediate look of worry engulfing her. “I'm fine,” he shrugs it off, removing his hand from his face.

 

Jessica’s brow furrows, as she kisses the tip of his nose. “These headaches aren't normal, Sam.” She pulls him into a warm hug, which he fully appreciates every second of.

 

He grimaces at her words. _‘normal.’_ Is he normal?

 

“I already saw the nurse, I'm fine.” Sam mumbles, moving away from Jess. Her face looks shocked, but also full of concern.

She goes to speak, but then sighs instead. “You're probably stressed. A law degree sure is hard work,” the blonde smiles sympathetically, and gives him a quick peck on the cheek.

 

Sam nods slowly, making himself believe her words. He's going to be fine… just stressed, of course. That's the only sane explanation that seems to be somewhat believable right now.

 

____

 

**_Monday, August 29th._ **

**_4.30p.m._ **

 

  
Sam’s sneakers dodge puddles from the late, summer rain. He pushes his hands into his hoodie pockets, keeping his eyes trained to the floor. He follows his steps one by one, moving around various groups of students as he goes. As he's about to turn down a shortcut towards his housing block, Sam frowns. He hears someone’s cry of fright echo through the air.

 

Remembering a dream he'd had a few days prior, a chilling shiver trickles down his spine. Sam creeps towards the noise, peeking around the corner of a building. His vision gets tainted by a sharp pain behind his eyes, and he grabs his forehead. Opening them again, he sees the same face from his dream – a young looking male student, backed up against a tree.

 

“I d – don't have it yet!” The guy stammers, being cornered by two, much bigger males. They keep on moving closer to him, and one of them raises their fist.

 

Sam knows that the poor kid won't move. He can see that he's frozen to the spot, and is about to experience a familiar amount of pain that a certain someone remembers from high school days… but, this student doesn't have an older brother to protect him.

 

The Winchester watches as the bully brings his enclosed fist towards the boy’s face… but, it doesn't hit the boy backed up against the tree. At the last second, he falls to the ground, and the bully hits the tree with extended force. A shriek of pain falls from his mouth, but the other kid is already running away from the elder students.

 

Sam groans, gripping at his head with both hands, dodging back behind the building. He clasps his hand over his mouth, so that the people nearby don't hear his noises of discomfort. When he withdraws his hand, it’s tainted with a deep, red liquid. “What is happening to me?” Sam presses his back to the wall, tilting his head upwards.

 

Blood runs down his chin, but he ignores it. Did he just use kinetic abilities to save that kid? ‘Practice your abilities, and learn to control them…’ that's what the yellow eyed monster in his nightmares has been saying. But, what if he can't? Will he become a danger to his friends… a danger to Jessica?

 

____

 


	3. Chapter 3

 

____

 

_**Monday, September 5th.** _

_**5.30a.m.** _

 

  
Bus ticket after bus ticket, journey after journey. The trees pass the window and blend into one, long shade of green. Sam has to get away. Far away from Jess. He knows it's the only way… but, it tears him apart inside. It took him three attempts to write the note to her, filled with excuses and lies as to why he's leaving. His tears splashed against the paper, melting away the words into an inky puddle of mess.

 

He climbs down the steps of the next bus, and gets into the station. Sam knows that nobody can know where he is, that's why he's traveling at random. He ditched his phone back at Stanford, so that he can't be traced. His tired eyes scan the information board above him, looking over the different times and cities. One more should be suffice, and then he can use his money to get some apartment. Nobody will find him there.

 

_**3 months later…** _

 

  
The wall clock is the only noise Sam can hear – it's better than the couple in the apartment below arguing all night, anyway. His mind concentrates on the dull tick, causing it to grow louder… and, louder. One flick of his hand, and the clock smashes to the floor. Strangely, after spending such a long time in solitude, his abilities grew quite quickly. He'd practice all day, all night. Migraines engulfing him, but without anyone to endanger, he had nothing to lose. Hours upon hours, and now he can move practically anything with one simply thought.

 

But, the yellow eyed man hasn't come up in his dreams for a while. Sam isn't sure if that's a good thing or not, but then again most nights he can't even sleep. He misses having Jess’ warmth beside him, her comforting touch whenever he'd suffer from a nightmare. But, she's safe now. That's all he can keep on telling himself.

 

“She's safe now,” Sam whispers, sighing heavily.

 

He wonders what time it is, and glances to where the – nevermind. Sam checks his watch instead, and sees that it's almost three pm. It's mid-November, so the weather outside carries a sharp chill in the air. Sometimes he goes for walks, despite the constant nag of fear at the back of his mind. What if someone recognises him? What if Jess went looking? The thought of his family also haunts his daily thoughts. He hopes they're okay, and that they aren't worrying too much. As long as nobody gets in his way, they'll all be safe.

 

Sam jumps down from his bed, and walks through his bland bedroom. There's only a small kitchen and bathroom added on, but it's all he really needs for one. He shrugs on his jacket, and grabs his keys from the small table beside the door. The little kid down the hallway is playing out on her own – from what Sam knows, she has a single Mom who works most of the day, and the elderly neighbor watches over her. He smiles, and she waves.

 

His worn out sneakers pad down the stairs, and then he reaches the front doors. There's a light drizzle outside, so Sam pulls up his collar and quickens his pace to a run. He's never really sure on where his feet will take him, but it's just grounding to leave his room once in a while. For the first month he'd be afraid of hurting somebody outside, but now he's more sure of himself that he has his abilities under control. He shoves his hands deep into his pockets, and ducks into a nearby newsagents as the rain batted down harder.

 

“If you have seen this male, please contact…” Sam freezes. He recognises that voice. The sobbing sound physically pains him as he listens, and when he looks up at the screen he knows why.

 

“Jessica,” Sam’s voice cracks, as his hazel eyes settle over the small TV screen above the checkout desk.

 

She's clearly launched a missing persons campaign. Sam has been sure to not take one glance at a TV over the past two months – his apartment doesn't even have a laptop anymore. Tears cloud his vision, as he watches her breakdown whilst asking for help. “Excuse me, Sir.” Sam turns on his heel, shoves into the door and runs. He doesn't stop until he gets back to his apartment, not even to smile down at the girl again.

 

He bolts his door shut, and leans his back against it. “Jess,” Sam sinks down to the floor.

 

Anger twists inside of him, as his eyes screw shut and he balls up his fists. “What do you want from me?!” He stands up in a sudden surge of rage, and the lightbulb above him shatters into a trillion tiny shards.

 

“Why me?! Huh?” Sam yells at the top of his voice, staring at the ceiling as if he’ll find answers there.

 

He lies down onto his bed, face hitting the duvet and dampening it. That's where he falls asleep, and dreams of his girlfriend’s distraught face. All he wants to do is save her. But, he's not ready. Not yet.

 

____

 


End file.
